


The Reflection Room

by i_took_the_sense_of_humor_in_the_divorce



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: And his future self, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baz talks to his past self, Fluff, Help, How Do I Tag, I Tried, I don't know, I just wanted them to have a happy ending, M/M, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, actually its a bunch of his past selves, can you even call this angst, just try it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_took_the_sense_of_humor_in_the_divorce/pseuds/i_took_the_sense_of_humor_in_the_divorce
Summary: Simon and Baz have returned to Watford, when Baz decides to visit the Reflection Room in the Weeping Tower one more time.(7 times Baz spoke to his past self and 1 time he spoke to his future self)
Relationships: Dev/Niall (mentioned), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	The Reflection Room

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these character, this is just a fan-made work of fiction!

**Baz**

The Reflection Room is the most bizarre rooms in the Weeping Tower, and possibly the oldest enchanted room at Watford. The only comparison I can think of is a magickal time capsule. Many students visit the room over the years at Watford, talking to their future selves. Most students go back after graduation to answer the questions their past selves asked. No one really knows how the room works, it’s magic is so ancient it’s indecipherable, but it’s one of the few remnants of the way Watford was before The Mage.

I stand before the door and reach for the handle, hesitating slightly. I don’t know if I really want to see what it will show me, because I can’t change the outcome. But then again, if it’s inevitable either way, what damage does knowing do?

I open the door and step into the room, hearing it softly click closed behind me. The room is… dizzying, to say the least. It’s not quite a room at all. A thick haze surrounds me, and I can still feel the floor beneath my feet, but it doesn’t appear to be there. I start to second guess my decision, and turn around to leave the room, but the mist has enveloped me entirely, and the door isn’t there anymore.

* * *

“Hello?” a voice calls out, and the mist parts like the red sea. No more than six feet in front of me stands… me. The first time I entered the room, towards the end of first year.

He stops in his tracks, staring at me.

“You’re me,” he states confidently. “From the future.”

“I am,” I nod slowly.

“They say I’m only allowed to ask one question,” he drawls.

I’d forgotten about this rule. One question is allowed for each time you’ve visited the Reflection Room, the more visits you have, the more questions you’re allowed.

“Do I win?” his high voice, much higher than I remembered, interrupts my thoughts.

“Win what exactly?”

“The fight,” he sneers. “Between Snow and I.”

This is going to be more complicated than I thought. I try to remember what I’d told myself in the past, and I find my response slips out naturally.

“You know I can’t give specifics.”

“Really? Not even a yes or no?” I still remember how bitter I was at not being able to wring out an answer from my future self.

“I’m afraid not,” I shake my head softly.

“Pathetic,” my eleven year old self hisses before the mist surges around us again.

I stare into the swirling grey abyss and collect my thoughts for a moment.

* * *

“Hello?” a voice calls again and the mist parts to reveal a twelve year old version of me.

He’s almost identical to the first one, hardly an inch or so taller, with a voice only slightly less high-pitched.

“Hello,” I answer in kind.

“I’ve got two questions this time,” he squares his shoulders and straightens his posture.

I nod, thinking better than to remind him of how obvious that is.

“First, Daphne is pregnant, is the baby going to be a boy or a girl?”

“A girl,” I answer fondly. If only he knew…

“What name should I suggest?”

I cock my head to the side, knowing full well where this is going.

“You should suggest Mordelia.”

I catch a glimpse of the grimace he makes right before the mist swallows us again.

* * *

“Hello.” My voice sounds behind me and I turn to meet the eyes of a thirteen year old Baz.

“Right, let’s get to the point,” he continues hurriedly. “The… affliction, does it get any easier?”

I remember this. Third year. I was still too afraid to admit my vampirism to myself. I’d just began experiencing the craving for blood, only having tried to quench my bloodthirst once or twice, without major success.

Has it gotten easier? It’s hard to say. The bloodthirst is always there, only momentarily subsiding when I drink. But… I don’t live in so much fear anymore. I’ve got more support now, that’s for certain. I’ll never feel comfortable about it, but I don’t spend as much energy being uncomfortable about it either.

“That’s a complicated answer. It gets better in some ways but worse in others,” I drawl.

My teenage-self scowls at me.

“Does anyone ever… find out?”

I hesitate for a moment.

“They do, but you should try to hide it as best you can. That isn’t the kind of information others should have access to, whether they discover it on their own or not.”

He seems somewhat satisfied with this answer as he nods.

“…How does father react to me being gay?”

Suddenly I remember this moment from the other perspective all too vividly. It was crushing, hearing what I’d already suspected from someone who knew the truth.

“He won’t like it. He won’t accept that it’s true for a while.”

“I see,” he answers, shuffling his feet slightly.

“It gets better, though,” I add, and he looks up at me with shining eyes. “He learns how to be more supportive. I know it’ll be hard in the beginning, but trust me, it’s not always going to be this difficult.”

The mist engulfs us before I can see his reaction.

* * *

“How old are you?” a fourteen year old me asks as soon as the mist swirls away from us.

“Twenty.”

“What happens with the war?”

I smirk slightly, remembering the useless responses I’d received when I had been on the other end of these exchanges.

“What was meant to happen.”

“What happens with Snow?”

“Same answer.”

“Why are you so infuriating?” he scowls before his eyes go wide. “Wait no- I didn’t mean to ask that!”

I smirk, knowing just how furious this had once made me.

“Because I’m you.”

* * *

The mist swirls around us and quickly subsides to reveal myself in fifth year. I’m taller now, not quite as tall as I am present day, but only around three inches shorter. I’m Simon’s height.

“Five questions,” I remind my former self. He nods and I notice the strange length of his hair. I must have just decided to start growing it out, because it looks all sorts of horrendous.

“Do we ever get over him?” His voice is deeper now, but it breaks slightly when he asks. I don’t have to question who he’s talking about.

“No.”

“Does Philippa Stainton ever get her voice back?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Does Mordelia like us?”

I chuckle at this.

“She adores us. She’s got the same strange way of showing it as any Grimm would, but she loves us all the same.”

He relaxes slightly, only to tense back up a moment later.

“Do I…” He stops and closes his eyes. “Do I kill him?”

I freeze when I hear it. I can’t tell him the truth; it could alter the past in an irreversible way. I try to remember what I’d been told back in fifth year, but it’s pointless.

“You know I can’t answer that.”

He nods numbly and I can see the change in him as he raises his guard again. The mist returns, but it’s slow this time. It doesn’t crash over us; it takes it’s time distorting reality before us.

* * *

“Six questions, I know.” Sixth-year-me steps forward and the mist doesn’t quite leave, but it thins between us.

“Will Snow stop stalking us this year?”

“Er, he never really _stops_ that, he just… relaxes a bit.”

He rolls his eyes and exhales long and slow.

“I’m not sure how much more of that I can handle. Do Dev and Niall ever figure their feelings out?”

I think back to the phone calls I got when they did. Niall nearly talked my ear off (not that I minded). Dev called me halfway through, and I can’t remember the last time I’d heard my cousin sound _that_ happy.

“Eventually.”

“Does Snow ever get any less infuriating?”

“Not really.”

“Will he defeat the Humdrum?”

“That’s what the prophecy says, isn’t it?” I neatly dodge the question.

“Do I ever get married?”

“Not yet.”

He rolls his eyes again.

“What should I get Mordelia for Christmas?”

Let’s see… this version of me is sixteen, putting Mordelia roughly around the age of four.

“A picture book and a dress-up dress should do it.”

“Thank you,” he nods and the mist returns in full.

* * *

The mist curls away to reveal seventh year Baz. This is the last time I visited the Reflection Room. After everything that happened during eighth year, I decided I didn’t want to know any more of what the future held.

“First of all, where do we end up living?”

“London. We stayed with Fiona for a while, but eventually we… we get our own flat.”

“Second of all, do we beat Penelope Bunce for top of our class?”

“Yes, we do.” Such a trivial thing to waste a question on.

“Do we have a boyfriend?”

“We might,” I drawl.

“Do you have any advice for me?” He asks in such a depressing resigned tone that I almost forget he’s just a past version of myself.

“Just… carry on. You’re not always going to feel like it’s worth it to keep going, but you have to pretend like it’s all going to work out in the end. Carry on and everything will be alright.”

He nods, staring blankly off into the mist.

“I have no more questions, thank you.” He says, and like a wave the mist comes crashing down on us.

* * *

I turn to reach for the door handle, knowing it will appear behind me like it always has, but it isn’t there.

“Sorry to keep you here, but I thought I’d come back one last time. You’ve got questions that you want answers to,” My voice rings out and the mist dissolves. Before me stands… well, me, obviously. But I’m… older.

“You have eight questions left,” future-me smiles softly.

He knows I need more information, that’s why he’s come back. Somewhere down the road I got the answers I needed and decided to come give some of them to my past self.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

Some relief floods through me when I see that he has aged a bit. He’s not quite so muscular anymore, but he still looks like a twenty-eight year old should.

“Is Simon…” I can’t even get out the words.

“You know I can’t answer that.”

“Does he end things between us?” I feel as small as I did the first time I walked into the Reflection Room.

“I can’t answer that either.”

I take a shaky breath and continue.

“Will we ever be okay?”

He studies me thoughtfully.

“There will be times when it feels like nothing is okay, but there will be times where you feel like nothing could ever be as perfect and right as it is.”

I sigh. “Is this when you tell me to just ‘carry on’?”

He laughs lightly. “It is.”

Having all my questions answered (to the best of their ability, I suppose) I see the mist subside in my peripheral vision to reveal the door. I take one last look at myself. He nods and walks in the other direction. I pull open the door.

“He chooses you too.” Future-me turns and smiles softly. I glance down and notice a white-gold band around my right ring finger. “He chooses you too, Baz.”

I nod, slightly dazed as I slip out the door and close it behind me, coming face to face with Simon.

His face is wrought with concern, and he’s bitten his nails down to stubs again.

I instinctively wrap my arms around him, and he tenses at first but exhales slowly and relaxes into me.

It’ll be alright. _We’ll_ be alright. It won’t be easy (nothing is with us) but we can get there.

Because I chose him. And I have to trust that he’ll choose me too.

We’ll carry on together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooo! I hope you enjoyed this fic, thank you all so much for reading! This concept popped into my head a few months ago, but I didn't have the motivation to write it until today  
> Extra thanks to everyone who leaves kudos and comments, you guys are the best!! :)) (and the only reason I ever have any motivation) Love you all!! <3 <3


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